Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from East Timor and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Magma to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Rekid,
Prince Buster,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Near,
Althea and Donna,
Minutemen,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Smog,
Animal Collective,
John Foxx,
Simply Red,
These Immortal Souls,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
Ultra Naté,
K-Klass,
Negative Approach,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers,
The Victims,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Rundgren,
Public Enemy,
Echospace,
The Move,
Josef K,
Erasure,
X-102,
Spoonie Gee,
Crash Course in Science,
Adolescents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mojo Men,
One Last Wish,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sound,
John Lydon,
The Smiths,
Trumans Water,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Cale,
Drexciya,
Thompson Twins,
Absolute Body Control,
Dave Gahan,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.